


Quint's Experience With "Nope"s, "Oh no"s, and "Dear God I'm Gonna Die Here"s.

by callmevansqeaky



Series: Day 1: Versions 2, 3, and 4 [1]
Category: The Last Kids on Earth (Cartoon)
Genre: Apocalypse, Canon-Typical Violence, End of the World, Epic Battles, Monsters, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmevansqeaky/pseuds/callmevansqeaky
Summary: The first few weeks of the apocalypse: through Quint's eyes.The start of a series! Hopefully.(The story starts at the last time Jack and Quint saw each other when everything went wrong, in front of the school)
Series: Day 1: Versions 2, 3, and 4 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020580
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27





	1. Welcome To The End Of Time

He'd shot his best friend one last look. A look holding a million words. A million feelings.

...Hell if he knew whatever those were, though, cause he was too busy realizing that a big thing was moving this way.

He turned and dashed off, the rhythmic thunderous footfalls of the colossus behind him rivaling the sound of his heart furiously pumping adrenaline throughout his lithe form. Panting breaths escaping his lungs as he ran past countless walking corpses and fearsome creatures.

Down main street, take a left at East Ave and wATCH OUT-- 

A flying car crashed to the pavement in front of him, the sound of shattering glass and twisting steel snapping him out of his all too slippery thoughts. He pushed himself against the building behind him and inhaled the oxygen around him, which smelled distinctly like smoke.

He was okay. Quint was okay.

A sudden collective groan from back down the street caught his attention and he was alarmed to see an enormous swarm of zombies coming towards his location.

He took off in the opposite direction with renewed vigor, propelling himself homewards. Soon enough he could see his neighborhood, and then his house, and at the sight of how close he was he risked a glance over his shoulder.

They weren't fast, but they were quick enough to keep pace. He needed to get behind a locked door NOW.

And so he kept going, sprinting so fast he wondered where on earth this secret speed was during gym class! He made it to the door, fumbling with the doorknob before realizing it was locked. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his spare key, but was horrified to find it wasn't there.

He was at the freaking door, and it wasn't there.

He turned, seeing the familiar glint of metal hidden in the flower bed. The spare, thank GOD. But he also caught the zombies in his peripheral vision, all too close for comfort. He made a mad dash for the flower bed, ripping the key from the earth and rushing back to the door, frantically shoving the key into the lock.

With an audible click, the door flung open and Quint ran in and slammed it behind him, locking it as securely as possible behind him. He took the time to shove the recliner in front of the door, even more exhausted when he finally managed to relocate the heavy furniture. He took a step back to admire his handiwork, sure that no zombie was getting in through that door.

He swiveled on his heel to go deeper in the house, and found himself face to face with his green-skinned babysitter.

Oh shit.


	2. First Day Of The New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the apocalypse just happened. What now, you ask? Well.
> 
> Quint's trying to figure that out too, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long, school is terrible, I'll probably have a pretty indefinite upload schedule. But I hope you like this chapter, despite it's admitted shortness.

Not going to lie, he spent all night playing cat and mouse with his undead babysitter. There were tripwires made of floss, water balloons, couch barricades… some serious Home Alone stuff.

Eventually, however, when the sun was rising on this very much destroyed Wakefield, Quint managed to trap her in his closet.

Which he promptly moved at least 50% of the stuff in his room in front of.

Exhausted from a sleepless night of being hunted in his own house, he collapsed on his bed. The previous day's events flashed through his mind in rapid succession. The bus. The monsters. The zombies. The sky OPENED UP and spat KAIJU at him! And Jack--

Oh my god, JACK!

Quint sat up, digging through his backpack and pulling the walkie talkie he always carried from within, pressing down on the talk button with almost frightening force.

"Jack! Jack, are you okay?!"

Static.

"Jack, you better not be pranking me right now!"

Still nothing.

"...Jack?" 

Silence.

Dread filled Quint's gut as he sat there for what felt like an eternity, his body scarily still while his mind raced. Jack was fine. Jack was okay, he had to be. He had to be.

Suddenly a small squeak brought him out of his head space, and he looked up from the walkie in his hands. Sitting on a side table was a small enclosure with two white mice inside. Their names were Einstein and Doctor Cheese. He'd had them forever.

He stood, setting the walkie aside momentarily to open the little cage door and hold the two rodents in both hands. He sat on the bedroom floor and watched the mice tussle in his grasp curiously.

He moved his thumb to scratch Einstein's head, smiling lightly when the mouse moved closer to the touch.

"How are you two even okay?" He wondered aloud, a little amused that his two oblivious fuzzballs would be practically unaware the world ended.

Einstein looked up at him with his bright little eyes and cocked his head to the side, and Quint smiled, patting his head gently with his unoccupied thumb.

"If two mice can survive the apocalypse, then surely Jack can too." He muttered, "And so can I, until I make the trek to his place!"

The mice chittered uproariously, before Quint lifted them back up to their cage and closed the little door behind them.

"I mean, how hard can it be?"

Loud footsteps echoed from outside. Quint facepalmed. Quint dared a look out his window, seeing gigantic creatures that reminded him of living mountains roaming the large field directly outside his house. They began scooping undead from the ground and eating them in what Quint hated that he mentally noted to be one bite. For a moment, he contemplated packing his things and trying to sneak out the back.

A glance at "the back" made him retract his contemplation. His backyard was swarmed with zombies, including his very large in stature neighbor Mr. Mccaslin. Definitely not the right exit. But he knew for a fact the front of his house was also not viable, so…

He was trapped.

"Well… so much for going over to Jack's." Quint muttered.

He jolted at the sound of his babysitter beating against the closet door, and quickly rushed to push the other half of his room in front of the door.

It took a lot of time to move all of his stuff, and by the time he finished, it was almost dark. Quint left his room and roamed the house, looking for… something. Anything to keep his mind off everything, he supposed. He stopped at the family picture in the hall, looking over the faces in the photo.

Mom...Dad...his Grandmother… what, what if they--

He shook his head. No. They were on a cruise, a giant boat with a security detail and enough food to feed hundreds. They were fine. Perfectly safe. And he'd see them soon.

...So why did he feel so terrified he wouldn't?


	3. What I Wouldn't Give For A Happymeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope "Apocalypse Food Acquisition 101" doesn't turn into "Quint Baker's Weight Loss Tips and Tricks", if you know what I mean.

Everything felt awful.

Why did he feel awful?

Uuhh, lack of sleep from regular fear and existential fear? Check. Threat of death? Check. Apocalypse breathing down his neck? Oh, you betcha.

Oh, and he was starving.

He was trapped, no way of gathering possible resources, and as he recently discovered, the power was out. He discovered this by opening the fridge and nearly vomiting at the smell. The fridge is expired, as well as anything inside. The pantry was better stocked, with more nonperishable items.

Except the moldy bread someone-- Dad-- was supposed to have replaced weeks ago.

There wasn't much he could do though. He managed to save some soda from the fridge, and liberated the intact ice cubes. He planned on melting them down for water, and rationing it out throughout the week. But after it runs out…

Let's just say it's best that what he's got lasts.

Thankfully, his Mom had always been one to buy two bags of ice at a time, so along with what was in the ice dispenser he'd have enough water to last him a while. If he was responsible. The food situation was still tricky, but he'd deal. Even if that means he has to obey the no snacking rule. Who even made that a thing?!

...Oh right.

~~~~

"Okay. The decided dinner time is only two hours away, Baker. You don't need that granola bar." Quint spoke to his reflection tiredly, "You can last two measly hours, without the brain food snack you've been routinely eating for the past year. Which are essential to the process of experimentation and overall existence."

He leaned onto the bathroom counter, a forced expression on his face, "Yep. Got this."

~~~~

He, in fact, did not have this.

Several times, he found himself walking to the pantry subconsciously, and every time it got harder to turn around and walk away. Eventually, he quarantined himself to his room, watching his mice chew on their pellets. Einstein deliberately staring into his soul while doing so.

...he swears he isn't going stir crazy, Einstein is just a jerk like that.

He then realized Doctor Cheese was stuffing, not one, not two, but FOUR pellets into his mouth.

"You little--" Quint flailed his arms in frustration, knocking his walkie talkie off his nightstand, and flinching as it hit the floor.

The device emitted the same static sound as before, silent in the loudest way possible. Quint picked it up, hesitated, and then pressed the talk button.

"Jack? Jack, do you read me?" When he released the button, the static resumed.

He never bothered to turn it off, though. He just held it, looking at it intensely and waiting. He didn't know what for. Maybe he thought that if he turned it down, he'd miss something. That the moment he walked away he'd get his response, and never know. So he sat. And waited.

And waited…

~~~~

He woke up to the sound of his battery powered alarm clock. Opening his eyes and slamming his hand on the off button automatically. Sitting up, he saw the walkie sitting beside him, still playing static. Still nothing. Not a word. He turned the speaker off, not wanting to waste battery power. He stared sadly at the walkie talkie, before he realized with a jolt--

"Darn it! I slept through dinner!"

Breakfast was in an hour, but he could sneak a granola bar this once-- to make up for the missed meal and all! It was for the betterment of his health! He is a growing teenage boy after all! He sprang out of bed and dashed towards the door, intent on raiding the pantry, but paused.

He looked back at the walkie talkie. He thought for a minute. He's really not so unlucky that Jack would call while he's not nearby… right? After a moment, he walked back and grabbed it, then turned around and ran towards the kitchen.

Just… to make sure he doesn't miss anything.


	4. New Neighbors... They're Intimidating.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quint isn't the only one in the neighborhood, after all.

You know, after sixteen days of intense boredom, lack of sleep, and growing anxiousness, one thing remained constant in the apocalypse.

The monsters.

Some days, tiny, axolotl-like creatures could be found all over the house. Getting in squeaking matches with his mice, trying to steal some of his rations, stowing away in his hair with a disturbing amount of stealth...

You know, normal rodents issues.

Sometimes he'd spot flying creatures soaring above the town, tempting Quint to board up the windows. But they never paid any mind to his home. In fact, they seemed to avoid the area all together.

Because of the giants.

The large, near prehistoric creatures that inhabited his neighborhood would constantly shake the earth with their mere footsteps. They'd roar at each other on occasion, maybe argue over an undead snack or something. But then one day.

Oh boy.

It got loud.

He was awakened in the early hours of the morning by thunderous sounds and ear splitting crashes. The entire house trembled, and Quint was tossed from his bed and to the floor, barely escaping from the wrath of a falling encyclopedia. He rushed to his mice's cage, stabilizing the box as best he could. Eventually, he gave up, instead opting to move the rodent home to a clear spot on the floor. Once he was sure his fuzzy companions would be safe, if not loudly squeaking, he moved to the window and looked outside. Two of the mountainous monsters, under the early rise of the golden sun, the sky bleeding red as it arose, were locked in a ferocious battle. They butted heads, swiping with their massive claws and throwing each other to the ground at random intervals. For varying amounts of time, they'd latch onto the other's thick hide with their horrific jaws and vigorously shake their heads. Each doing their best to bring their opponent to their knees. In the brief periods where they seperated, they would rear up, and let out terrifying roars of fury, before immediately descending back into the battle. 

It was nothing short of a clash of titans.

Quint was so enraptured with the scene, that he nearly lost his footing and went out the window at the next shockwave the battle sent outwards. Thankfully, he managed to catch himself, and the jostle snapped him out of his awe. His scientific spirit took initiative, and he quickly snatched a pencil, a binder, and his binoculars. Looking out the window, he scribbled down notes with as much legibility as possible, occasionally peeking through the binoculars and making note of the details of the confrontation. The two colossuses continued this for several hours, the sky having turned a fiery shade when the battle came to it's finale. One of the giants, visibly fed up with the other, rushed it's opponent and rammed him from the side. The sheer force sent the other flying into a building, and the creature shakily attempted to recover, before collapsing back limply, and staying there. 

The victor reared up, throwing its head back and calling out in a hearty roar. Quint sat, watching the spectacle in dumbstruck awe for a moment before looking back to his notebook. He reviewed his scribbles, making small changes where he saw any inaccuracies. He'd managed to fill a number of pages with his excited ramblings, before he found himself sketching the beast out.

Hmmm… beast…

Struck by scientist's inspiration, Quint found himself writing a table of contents for the notebook (though at the moment it only contained one chapter). And he wrote on a piece of paper, which he promptly taped to his binder. He was sitting smack dab in the middle of the territory of a natural and evolutionary marvel! He'd be a fool to not take advantage of this! So he decided to make a journal of all the fantastic creatures that now inhabit his world. An encyclopedia, a dictionary, a… a...

...A Bestiary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter guys! You know I had to include the origin of the Beastiary.


	5. Some House Guests Just Can't Take A Hint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always that moment when the obnoxious guest has overstayed their welcome, and you try to get them to leave as quickly as possible, but it's never easy....
> 
> ...of course, that house guest doesn't usually pose the threat of un-death.

Okay, Baker. Today's the day.

For too long, he has hidden behind copious amounts of moved furniture and a reasonable amount of fear. For too long he has stood by and let this go on! No more! Today he's getting RID of the uninvited house guest! Today, he's kicking out the zombie babysitter!

...now the only question is how.

After nearly two hours of brainstorming he thinks he's got it. Armed with two protective oven mitts and a broom to (in theory) help keep a fair distance from the subject, Quint cautiously approached the well barricaded closet, and slowly pushed some of the furniture from in front of the doors. He used the broom handle to (with much difficulty) open the door from a distance.

And immediately she fell out of the closet and face planted on the floor.

Quint stood there, blinking in shock and trying to process what just happened as the zombie babysitter just… laid there. Didn't move. Didn't even twitch. Slowly, Quint moved closer, and poked the body on the floor with the broomstick. Not a single reaction.

Is she dead? Well, yeah, but like, permanently dead? Maybe she starved? I mean, it's not like she's been eating. God, he really needs to learn more about these zombies and how they work. He poked her again for good measure, then slowly moved within arms reach.

And she sat up and swiped at him.

With an admittedly high pitched scream he leapt back, dropped the broom, and, forgoing ANY semblance of a contingency plan he may have thought out earlier, proceeded to run in circles through his room as the zombie shuffled after him. They continued this cartoonish pattern until Quint actually outran her, running into her. She turned around, and in response, Quint opened his window hurriedly, climbed out onto the roof, and scrambled upwards. Thankfully, she didn't seem to understand the concept of what he'd just done, and was unable to follow. He flopped on his back and sighed/wheezed tiredly.

He was not good at this.

Then again, he can't really be blamed for that. It's not like Apocalypse 101 is a common course in school. Well, WAS a common course anyway. He sat up, putting his chin in his hands and looking out over the pretty much trashed town. He could've really used a class on how to survive the apocalypse. Too bad suggesting that a couple weeks ago would get you committed.

Well, at least he was doing okay now. I mean, when the world got flipped on its head he did a pretty good job of not dying a horrible death. Yay for him. Still working on a few details though. Like the roommates. And the internal suffering. And the fear constantly gnawing at his very soul--

His train of thought was interrupted by loud mouse squeaks, and he snapped to attention. He'd totally left his mice in there. He slid back down to his window, greeted with the zombie curiously examining the mouse cage. Extremely fearful for his mice friends, and fueled by a sudden boost in courage, he quickly hopped through the window and ducked past the undead lady, snatching the broom from its place on the floor.

As she turned to him, he turned the broom around, and began pushing her around with the bristled end. With some maneuvering, and zombie bopping, he shoved her back into the closet, quickly blocking the door closed with a chair. The zombie against the door a few times, before returning to the foreboding silence Quint had grown accustomed to. He frantically turned to check on his other roommates, the rodent ones, who were actively squeaking at a wiggling pale mass stuck in the bars of their home.

….it's a zombie pinky finger.

Quint would've laughed if it wasn't a dismembered piece of his zombie babysitter… that was, uh, still moving…

Quint grabbed a plastic bag and some tongs from his workbench, scooping the finger into the bag and sealing it.

"What am I gonna do with a zombie… finger…." He trailed off as he spotted an unused notebook under his bed.

"..."

"Make the weirdest scrapbook in the world it is!"

He taped the bag to the book's first page and grabbed a pencil. He then proceeded to climb out the window, onto the roof, and write down any zombie behaviors he saw.

...because apparently writing research journals is how he copes now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long, a lot of stuff has been on my mind lately. But now I'm back, and hopefully I can resume my normal chapter schedule.


	6. Idle Hands Do The Nerd's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quint isn't just a scientist, he's an inventor!
> 
> It's time he started actually inventing!

Quint was through being passive in this mess.

He was trapped in his house, Jack still hadn't contacted him, and his supplies could only last so long. It was time to find a solution.

It was time for a jailbreak… housebreak? No, that's like, housebreaking a pet-- you get the point!

And so, it's this that prompted Quint to get back to doing what he does best: tinker. His workbench scattered with half-finished blueprints and little metal choking hazards, Quint brainstormed for hours, trying to find a solution to this particularly precarious pickle of a problem… and he may have played a few alliteration word games. What? It helps him think.

Much to Quint's dismay, even with all the brain teasers in his puzzle book, he was stuck. Not a single idea came to mind. Probably because Jack wasn't there. His spontaneous friend would usually spout impossible nonsense, which would then give Quint inspiration for an actually plausible feat. It had been a comfortable routine, to listen to Jack ramble as he worked. And to test the product together, usually making a huge mess.

A small chuckle left Quint at the memories, which quickly went quiet as his eyes caught sight of the walkie. He picked it up, turning it on. Still nothing.

He sighed and turned the device over in his hands, the air turning melancholy. He wished this had never happened. He wished the world hadn't lost it's marbles. That he could've just gone to school that day, gone to his classes, and then hung out with Jack after school to test the--

"Rocket Launcher!" Quint jumped from his seat, nearly dropping the walkie talkie.

He ran downstairs, finding his school bag laying against the stairwell, and opened it hastily. Finally, he pulled a roll of construction paper from the depths of the backpack, and unfurled it. The blueprint, depicting a homemade bottle rocket launcher, was still perfectly intact. Quint smiled.

Jack had given him an idea after all!

~~~~~~

Several minutes later, Quint sat at his workbench. Sticking his tongue out a little in concentration as he worked on the launcher. Finally, he pulled away, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he looked it over.

It was a simple contraption, but undeniably promising.

He'd need to test this. But he'd also need some ammunition. After all, what's a rocket launcher without the rocket? But where would he find something remotely close to what he needed in this house…? Got it! Quint stood from his desk and headed downstairs. There was a fair chance that the leftover fireworks from last year's 4th of July were still in the garage. Those could probably work!

He got to the indoor garage entrance and opened the door, greeted by the musky and dusty smell he was sure nearly all garages had something like. It was dark, not much light came through the little windows of the folding door, they were too dirty. He picked a flashlight off a table inside, and curiously flipped the switch. The light came on, still operational. He used the newfound light to scan the garage, the beaming eventually finding the box of fireworks he was searching for.

He held in the flashlight in his teeth, picking up the box of explosives and turning to make his way back upstairs, when in the dark his eyes caught something.

...the car.

And he got an idea.

The main issue with his position in this place, the main reason he was trapped, was that he'd be exposed to zombies and monsters if he left. But! What if he was in something big enough to stay out of reach from the undead, yet fast enough to outrun monster pursuers?

...he was pretty sure his parents wouldn't mind him making a few adjustments.

He went upstairs to place the fireworks somewhere secure, and when he was sure he wouldn't accidentally blow up the house he'd come back down.

And get to work deconstructing a car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you like this chapter! I'd just like to thank you for the support in this story, you really keep me motivated to write.


	7. Hitting Metaphorical Speed Bumps, Instead of The Real Ones We Want To Be Hitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redesigning a car is definitely the biggest project Quint's worked on, for sure. So it's a good thing he knows how to work with cars.
> 
> ...but as it turns out, he doesn't.

A lot of progress had been made regarding Quint's latest and greatest project, the super-vehicle in his garage. Of course there were a few hiccups- like when he realized he was not a mechanic. And he had no idea what he was doing. 

But that's what those '[Insert Activity] For Dummies' books are for, so all was well.

His main issue was insufficient lighting to do his work, despite his best efforts to let as much daylight in through the windows as he could. He did some tinkering with the house's electrical system, and managed to get the lights working in most of the rooms. Thankfully, that included the garage. After that, it was a relatively easy going project.

Tweak a few things there… buff out a scratch here…. remove an axolotl-thingy from every place at least once…

You know. Car stuff.

Luckily for him, his dad had been more of a car guy than him, so nearly all the necessary materials were already available. Now, take note of the word nearly in the previous statement. Unfortunately, his blueprints required MUCH different tires than the ones the car had. Tires he knew would not be in his house. He'd seen tires like them before somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on where exactly.

Stumped and unable to continue his project, Quint went up to the roof (the increasingly popular spot for contemplating these days) and worked on modifying the fireworks for his bottle rocket launcher, so they'd work as ammo.

His hands began completing this task deftly, a matter of muscle memory and skill, which allowed his mind to wander as he worked. The first thing to come to mind being how funny it was he was even sitting here. A couple weeks ago he'd find little reason to go on the roof, and even if he did, he'd probably get scolded for it. Maybe even get yelled at by the neighbors. Which would be stupid, because the only neighbor who could see him would he Mr. Darby and he has no right being upset over a teen quietly sitting on his rooftop, not when he was constantly interrupting experiments with his loud, macho…. car….

Oh.

That's where he'd seen those tires.

Mr. Darby liked to show off his car, so he never put it in his garage unless it was hailing. But the day if the apocalypse had been IRONICALLY sunny and cloudless.

It was still in his driveway!

Quint's neighborhood had been a prime zombie, and therefore giant monster, habitat this entire apocalypse. He'd realized this very early on. And he knew that made leaving the safety of his house an extremely risky endeavour… were those tires worth the risk? Of course not.

But was completing the car worth it? Getting out of this tactical corner?

Finding Jack?

No question. He was getting those tires.

~~~~

A boiling pot on his head, a frying pan, two oven mitts, and pillow armor...

Quint is sure he absolutely radiates the energy of a man ready for battle.

But his visible lack of preparation was disregarded for getting this done fast. If he hurried, he could get this done before sunset. It wasn't getting any earlier, and he needed to have those tires back inside by nightfall. Getting caught out in the dark would be the literal worst case scenario, and it would not end well. And waiting until the next morning to do this was no more appealing, despite it's obvious superiority tactics-wise. Quint knew as much as anyone else that in the new world, anything can happen. Plus, he was 99% sure he saw those stupid axolotl creatures chewing on the old tires and he didn't want to risk the new ones being eaten in the night.

And so outside he went.

He didn't use the backyard entrance, that wouldn't work. He used his front door, being as subtle as he could to avoid undead eyes. Of which there were a fair amount. He dashed from his yard to the other, ducking beside the target vehicle and placing his tools on the driveway. The thing about taking the tires off a car on a time crunch when you literally just started working with cars? It's not easy. And he began the process in a paranoid hurry to get it done. A minute passes. Two. It's four minutes in he gets the first tire off, a two minute interval, and then another four to get number two off.

Unfortunately, the sun would only need until tire three was halfway off to set.

Quint picked up the pace, but he lost the majority of his operating light as the sun waned during the transition to tire four. He followed his intuition to get the last tire off, but it cost him an extra three minutes. It was getting darker. Now the tires were off, but Quint had four heavy rings of rubber to get back to his house, and time was short. Immediately he collected his tools and grabbed the nearest tire and started rolling it, straining to keep it upright and heading the right way as he worked his way back.

Awkwardly, he got tire number one through the door, and went back for number two. He bumped into the car on the way back with two, making an audible thump that, to Quint's panicked ears, was practically a thunderclap. Hurriedly, he rolled tire number two back. On the way back for three, he glanced to his right.

Boom. Locked eyes with a zombie across the street.

The undead, clearly not in as much as a rush as the last encounter Quint had with one, groaned loudly and made its way across the road. Quint yelped, rushing with renewed speed to grab tire three and roll it back. By the time he turned back, three other undead had noticed his presence, and all four were on their way. Sprinting to make the short window he had, Quint heaved the last tire upright and shoved it into motion. Fumbling to get it through the door before it was too late. Finally getting the object past the door frame, he pushed his way inside and shut the door, locking it, but not immediately blocking it shut.

He slid down the door, labored breaths escaping him. He looked at the tires. And he smiled. The small smile soon broadened into a wide grin, which evolved into quiet cackles as the middle school aged genius wheezed.

"That-- Haha, t-that was so stupid!" He clutched his torso and fell on his side, entertained to no end by his impulsive mission.

He wholeheartedly blamed Jack for that side of himself.

~~~~

After a full night's rest and an energy filled session of finishing up the details of the project, Quint was done. He sat in the driver's seat, keys in hand, and took in a deep breath as he slid the car key into the ignition. And when he turned his wrist, he felt a wave of catharsis as the car roared to life, the engine running as smoothly as Quint could ever have hoped for. He cheered, throwing his arms in the air as he celebrated, shimmying around in an odd little victory dance. 

He tested the functions of the vehicle as well as one could in a garage, before being satisfied with the tests and turning off the car. As he hopped out of the vehicle and shut the car door, his eyes gravitated toward the walkie talkie sitting nearby. He walked over, picking the device up, and smiled to himself.

He's almost there, Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action scenes. Not my area expertise. Hope you guys liked it though!


	8. Losing Your Keys Sucks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axolotl-thingies are not to be trusted.

Big Mama (thank science for that wonderful novelty license plate--) was ready for her first test drive.

Not test 'run in the garage for a few minutes', not test 'calculate the new miles to needed gas ratio'.

Test DRIVE.

As in get the garage doors open, drive out onto the road, and drive around!

It was high time Quint got out of the house, anyways…

...he cannot believe he just thought that.

Anyways, he was getting ready to get out on the road and drive. He packed a bag just in case he needed things. Like a flashlight, bandaids, bestiary, granola bars, biscuit crackers, peanut butter… okay, so he was hungry, sue him. He was almost ready to go get the electricity hooked up to the doors and hit the road when he realized something:

He didn't grab the keys.

So he went back upstairs, opened his bedroom door, and immediately locked eyes with an axolotl-thingy the size of a small PIG. Like the others were guinea pig sized, or a most a house cat, but this thing was WAY bigger!

And it was currently sitting on his bed.

To his credit, Quint didn't panic. He just stood there. And oh so slowly reached for his anti-axolotl broom. Not slowly enough though, because the Piglotl squealed in rage(???) and leapt down from the bed, barrelling past Quint and down the hall. Strange as that was, Quint still remained on task, and reached to get his keys off the bedside table before he went to deal with… that.

Small problem: the keys weren't there.

They weren't on his bedside table, they weren't in any drawers, they weren't under his pillow! They had disappeared! Quint was about to lean down and check under his bed, when a glint of metal caught his eye from down the hall. He turned and squinted, finally seeing the keys… hanging from one of the Piglotls frills.

Oh no was an understatement.

Slowly, Quint turned to look at the creature.

"Heeeeeey, buddy… can you just… come over here for a second?" Quint raised his hands and slowly approached.

And the Piglotl paused. Considered. And, oh so slowly, narrowed its eyes. It raised a single foot. Quint murmured hushed pleas against this. And it ran. Running faster than something that size had any business running, the Piglotl rushed down the hall, and threw itself downstairs, rolling across the steps. This made it all the more infuriating for Quint, who was in hot pursuit with his broom, when the keys stayed firmly in their place. Quint hopped up on the railing and his staircase and slid down… about a couple inches, before using the stairs like a normal person, albeit quickly.

The Piglotl had no regard for anything in its path, ramming past obstacles and squealing the entire time, with Quint waving a broom indignantly behind it. The creature then made an impressive jump onto the kitchen counter, where it knocked a multitude of objects off. Quint dived down and caught as many as possible, dropping his broom in favor of saving some very much glass cups. Looking up, Quint was met with an angry hiss, and then the monster tucked into a kitchen cupboard.

Quint stood, opening the cupboard it had gone into, only to find it wasn't there. Then he opened the next. And the next. Until finally he opened the last cupboard and was greeted with a Piglotl sized hole in the cupboard and wall. It was in the walls. Quint's eye twitched. He closed the cupboard.

"So that's how we're gonna play it, huh?"

~~~~

That Piglotl had no idea the wrath it had just doomed upon itself.

That car would not run without the keys, and Quint would not do any better without that car, so it seemed violence was the only answer. Armed with a beastiary, determination, and the spitefulness all middle schoolers possess deep down, Quint prepared for war.

Now if there was one monster Quint was familiar with, it was the axolotl-thingy. They were the only monsters he'd find inside the house, and were eerily comfortable in close proximity to him. Like a lazy, yet stubborn, cat mixed with a pigeon, in the body of an axolotl someone put on an all-beef diet. They took up approximately one third of the little information he possessed on any of the creatures. So if he was gonna pick a fight with anything these days, it may as well be one of these. The first lead he had was that axolotl-thingies liked heat, cause he could find a couple of them sunning on his roof most days. So, step one check the roof.

Upon reaching his bedroom window, he very carefully unlatched it and stuck his head out. There was definitely an axolotl-thingy up here, he could hear it chirping. He slowly climbed out the window and looked across the roof. There, on the shingles, laid at least 20 regular axolotl-thingies, asleep. In a pile.

"Aawww…" Quint cooed to himself, before clambering back inside.

The sheer number of them was unprecedented, and the pile thing? Oh he HAD to add this to the-- nO! Stay on task, you can write down the adorable stuff later! It makes sense the Piglotl wouldn't be there, he's been watching the axolotl-thingies on his roof for ages, and never once did he see one that big. But...

If the Piglotl wasn't sunning, where was it?

Were there any other sources of warmth in his house? He didn't think so, not with the carefully diverted electricity cutting off most normally warm appliances. Wait. That's it! He ran downstairs, slowing as he approached the garage. He carefully opened the door, and didn't turn on the lights, instead favoring to flip on his flashlight and walk towards the wall. There he found the backup generator, which he rewired to get the electricity going. It wasn't a big model, not enough to power the whole house at once, but it was currently running to keep the lights on. And a brush of Quint's hand on the device confirmed that it was running hard enough to warm up.

Quint sweeped the room with his flashlight slowly.

It was oddly quiet. The only noise being the soft thrum of the machine beside him as he looked for any signs of the fugitive creature. Then, another sound, a soft scuttling, pierced the semi-silence from above. Quint looked up to find the source of the noise, his light finding an oversized axolotl-thingy scowling down at him from a ventilation grate. The key still hanging from its frill. The monster squealed, before sprinting off through the vents, and Quint didn't waste a moment in following the sound out of the garage and into the living room. Quint made a dash for the kitchen, collecting his broom, before running back and orienting himself underneath the sound's origin.

He reached the broomstick towards the ceiling, tapping to the left of the scuttling noise. The creature moved right. He kept doing this, herding the animal towards another vent, until finally the Piglotl burst from the grate in the ceiling, landing with a heavy thud and a loud squeal. Quint dove after the monster, grasping for the keys.

The metallic cause of all this madness continued to allude him however, the pig promptly beginning to start moving away. But Quint retaliated by grabbing onto the creature, like if he were wrestling an ACTUAL pig. They tussled fruitlessly and furiously for minutes, before the Piglotl ripped from his grasp, tearing open his bag of supplies in the process. A bag of peanut butter crackers hit the floor.

The creature paused.

Quint facepalmed softly. Of course. He slowly grasped the bag and opened it, extending a cracker to the creature. The Piglotl leaned forward and smelled the cracker, before hastily scarfing it down, nearing taking off Quint's hand in the process.

While the monster continued crunching on the snacks Quint gave it, he carefully removed the keys from it's frills. Perfect. Now that he had the keys, he could finally-- ARE YOU SERIOUS?! Quint groaned when he saw the sun setting through his patio door. He'd lost all the time to test the car. Oh well, guess he'd have to do this tomorrow. And frankly, sleep sounded fantastic after that rodeo. Of course, he didn't actually go to bed, no, he's a SCIENTIST! So he sat on his windowsill scribbling in his beastiary. After all, it had been a very informative day.

Man, after such a crazy ordeal, nothing could make this day any--

Brief static.

"--jingo! Captain Danger to Corporal Tigerpants!"

...Oh my god.

"Quint? Are you out there? Hello?"

oh mY GOD WHAT WAS QUINT DOING?! Quint snapped out of his frozen, shocked state and fell from the windowsill. Scrambling to get to his bedside table and answer ASAP. But when he finally managed to get there…

...he only saw Piglotl. Glaring. With the walkie in it's mouth.

Crackers. Crackers, where were the--

Static.

"You're probably doing an experiment. Or on the toilet. Or both. So, um, just call whenever."

Nonononono! No! Where were those stupid crackers!

Quint found an empty cracker box.

The Piglotl saw this.

"Nonono, come on buddy, give me the walkie! Please!" Quint panicked.

The creature ran down the hall.

Here we go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been way too long, sorry for the wait! But we are SO CLOSE to finishing this thing! Almost there guys, bear with my nonsense a little longer!


End file.
